


Disclosure

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [17]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Fix-It, Gen, Vampire Family, agency and choices!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:53:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The family, taking care of all of the little (and not so little) things that need to be done before the operation moves bases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

> Part five, "It Was Blue."

Destroying vehicles and stealing new ones, which will then also have to be destroyed.  That’s apparently their new modus operandi.

This is what Nora’s muttering to herself about as she drives the cop car toward the bad part of town (she has to ask Eric and Pam what constitutes the bad part of Shreveport, it’s not exactly been on her radar, and she puts up with Pam’s crack about doesn’t she know everything though? as patiently as she can).  It makes sense that this part of the job is hers.  Why, she’s practically becoming a vehicular destruction expert, and anyway she’s never been one for breaking into things like Eric and she doesn’t know her way around that bar like all of the rest of them do.

She doesn’t have the radio turned on, she doesn’t want the radio, listening to the radio could very possibly give her even more things to be anxious about and that won’t do, so instead she’s driving through the empty streets of Shreveport talking to herself like she’s got one of those bloody idiotic Bluetooth headsets on.  If there were any passersby, that’s what they’d think upon seeing her.

Part of her wants to say it’s just humans who only see what they want to see, but she knows that’s not true.  It would be convenient, but it’s not true, which may or may not matter.

They can’t push every vehicle they steal into a swamp, so Nora’s job is this: find a suitably deserted and yet disreputable parking lot or something such as, position the corpses in their proper seats, fire some shots at the car, set it aflame.  Even if they don’t burn all the way up (most likely they won’t) it’ll look like the hapless fellows got caught by some vengeful criminals.

Again, seeing what they want to see.

 

* * *

 

“Y’all know we’re in a hurry,” Jessica shouts from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, yeah, out in a minute,” Pam calls.  She doesn’t even use a patronizing nickname, Jessica notes.  It must be serious.

“We oughta help,” Tara says.  “You really want someone else packin’ up your livelihood?”

“In a minute,” Pam repeats, and she leans back in to nuzzle against the bared skin of Tara’s thigh.  “Maybe two.  Right now I’m thinkin' about you.”

“I’m okay,” Tara murmurs, though as Pam kisses up her thigh she starts to lose a bit of her composure.  “Granddaddy got the magic bullet out of me, it’s all good.”

“I know, baby,” Pam husks.  “You’re a survivor.  I know.”  She presses a kiss to the disappeared wound, licks over the spot like a kitten or some shit.  “Can’t you just let me show you how glad I am about that without pullin’ attitude?”

Tara arches an eyebrow.  “Someone’s feeling generous tonight,” she observes.

“Yeah, well, I figure when you save my life and nearly get killed in the process –”

“I wasn’t gonna die,” Tara interrupts, “I was in a fuckton of pain but it wasn’t gonna kill me.”

“– when you do something like that, tipping the velvet is the least I can do to say thanks.”

“Tipping the _what now_?” Tara laughs, because sometimes Pam just says these weird-ass old-fashioned things that serve as a reminder of how old she actually is and since Tara knows there’s no point being freaked out by it anymore (it definitely had that effect at first) she’s just choosing to find it funny.

It doesn’t seem so funny when suddenly Pam’s kissing her clit, though.  She’s clearly not wasting any time, all teeth and tongue in that way she knows will drive Tara right over the edge fast.  They’re trying to save time, after all.

Tara moans, Tara leaves gouges in the finish of the desk, Tara’s thighs clamp around Pam’s ears, and Tara’s not even ashamed of how fast she comes.

 

* * *

 

“I managed to find an appropriate van to borrow,” Eric declares wryly, striding back in to find Jessica behind the bar boxing up whatever TruBlood’s in the fridges.  “Where are Pam and Tara?”

Jessica rolls her eyes.  “You know perfectly well where Pam and Tara are,” she retorts.  Given the events of the evening, she’s pretty sure it would be obvious even if the noises coming from the office _didn’t_ make it so.  “They said they’ll be out soon.”

“Come on, now,” Eric teases.  “They could just be packing very enthusiastically.”

“I’m a baby, but I ain’t a kid,” Jessica snaps.  “You don’t need to talk down to me.”

“I – ” _Wasn’t_ , he’s about to finish the thought, but he knows he sort of was, so instead he just shrugs.  “I could use some help starting to load the van.”

She nods.  “Point me in the right direction.”

“I took the liberty of grabbing your suitcases,” he says as they carry crates to the van – she doesn’t know why she was expecting some sort of suburban minivan when of course Eric is the kind of guy to steal a U-Haul.  “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t give a shit,” she says.  “It’s not like you were rummaging through my bureau to pack them, they were just layin’ there.  Saves time.”

“You’re not the same brat you were as a newborn,” he observes.

“But I’m still a brat?” she shoots back.

“Most vampires are brats,” he points out, and it’s just a touch glib (almost everything he says to almost everyone is).  “One way or another.  It would be boring if we were all good little girls and boys.”

When they re-enter the building, they find Nora sitting at the bar, viciously twisting the bracelet on her wrist.  There’s blood (definitely not her own) smeared on her hands and her forehead, her hair is mussed, and her expression is cranky to say the least.

“Next time carrying out the plan means both driving a car and shooting a gun, elect someone else,” she exclaims by way of a hello.

Jessica wrinkles her nose.  “But if you can…”

Eric’s got his mouth set in a line as he takes the seat next to his sister, and though his tone is still sardonic, his expression doesn’t change.  “My sister, the selective late adapter,” he announces.  “Just because she can doesn’t mean she likes to.  Wet towel, please.”

It takes Jessica a second to connect the two things, but it’s a bar, there are towels lying around and a sink at the ready, so she obliges pretty quick, passing it over.  “It got done, though, I’m guessing?”

“Very much done,” Nora confirms, trying not to grumble for no good reason as Eric wipes the blood from her face and hands.  “I don’t know how much the parking lot of the fairgrounds is prone to violent crime for true, but it was an abandoned enough area to leave the damned vehicle.”

 

* * *

 

“Why don’t you just admit it?” Tara asks, slipping off the desk and bending over to pick her pants up off the floor.

“Admit what?”

“You were worried about me.  You were panicking at the thought that I wasn’t gonna make it.”

Pam folds her arms, leans against the wall, but her tone is surprisingly soft.  “You want the truth?”

“It’s why I’m asking.”

“I don’t remember the last time I felt that anxious about someone that wasn’t Eric,” Pam admits.  “And sure, part of that’s just that I don’t wanna fuck up bein’ a Maker this time.”

“You’re gonna have to tell me about that some time,” Tara says.  “This vague other time.”

“Not tonight,” Pam shakes her head.  “Especially not when I'm in the middle of tellin’ you how I was actually worried just ‘cause yeah, I didn’t wanna lose you.  I don’t wanna.”

Tara gives Pam a once-over – Pam her once-enemy, Pam her Maker, Pam her lover – and she’d like to think she’s pretty good at spotting bullshit in any of its forms, but she can’t.  Pam was worried about her, wanted to save her life or not-life or whatever this is, but Pam also didn’t do anything she wouldn’t have done herself were their positions reversed.  Pam didn’t do anything she hadn’t already done, more or less.  Maybe that’s one of the reasons this works.

“I knew it,” she says instead, smirking as she pulls on yet another one of their lame-ass merchandise t-shirts (since her sweater is fucked) and heads out the door.

 

* * *

 

“Regaling us with tales of your adventures, Auntie?” Pam trills as she and Tara stride in.

“Something like that,” Nora says.  “It’s not important.  Are your things packed?”

“Like we’re goin’ on a long, fabulous vacation,” Pam smiles.  “Even though there’s nothing fabulous about the Williams Lake hideout.”


End file.
